The Damnable Ideal
by Lady Invidia
Summary: Kurt wakes up alone on his and Blaine's anniversary. As Kurt gets angrier by his disappearance he has flashbacks to moments in their relationship where Blaine had been the perfect partner. But where is he, and will Kurt realise Blaine needs him in time?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Damnable Ideal

**Pairings:** Kurt/Blaine

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary:** Kurt wakes up alone in Paris on his and Blaine's five year anniversary. As Kurt slowly gets angrier by his continuing disappearance Kurt has flashbacks to important moments in their relationship where Blaine had been the perfect partner and so easy to love. But where is Blaine, and will Kurt realise Blaine needs him in time?

**Based on the prompt:** "It is not the perfect, but the imperfect, who have need of love. It is when we are wounded by our own hands, or by the hands of others, that love should come to cure us-else what use is love at all?" - Oscar Wilde

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Ryan Murphy and FOX Broadcasting Company. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**A/N:** This story is already written, I'm just editing it again at the moment. The story alternates between present day (around 2023) and the past.

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><p><strong>The Damnable Ideal.<strong>

Sunlight came streaming through the open window, gently waking him from soft dreams. Familiar noises of a city slowly beginning the day reached his ears as Kurt stretched his arms out sinuously only to encounter cold satin sheets instead of the warm flesh he had expected. Frowning, he sat up and quickly looked around the Parisian hotel suite. Apart from the king sized bed he was sat on there was a large seating area opposite with the remnants of last night's celebrations; two empty champagne flutes, a discarded bottle, various clothes items… but no Blaine. Quickly walking into the bathroom he glanced around expecting to see him having a soak in the Jacuzzi bath or maybe waiting for him in the double walk in shower but he wasn't there. Pouting, Kurt quickly had a shower before starting his daily morning moisturising regime.

Two hours later and with still no sign of Blaine or a note to say where he was, Kurt shrugged before grabbing his phone and leaving the hotel. Blaine was probably off sorting out their plans for later tonight. Hopefully this time it wouldn't involve a full orchestra, two kinky male giraffes apparently in love, a permanent ban from the Ritz in London and several months of counselling. Blaine's romantic gestures had calmed down over the years but every now and then it was as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, particularly on special occasions like today their five year anniversary, and Kurt had learned to just grin and bear it. After all, it proved how much Blaine loved him for the entire world to see which, in Kurt's opinion, was worth any amount of embarrassment. And really, despite his over exuberance when it came to romantic gestures, Blaine truly was the perfect partner.

*******Time shift*******

Finally. Finally he was here in New York. He'd made it out of Lima and the world seemed full of endless opportunities. Dreams of Strolling down Broadway, sipping cocktails in Bemelmans Bar, shopping in Macy's, all the while holding tight to Blaine's hand, raced through his mind as he hurried down 7th Avenue to the coffee shop Blaine had texted him about. Apparently it was exactly equidistant to both their halls of residence, and Blaine had suggested it could be their halfway meeting point just like the Lima Bean had been in their junior year. It had been days since he'd seen him as, although they were moving to the same city, they were going to different colleges. To everyone's surprise Kurt had decided not to apply to Julliard with Rachel and instead had decided on taking Fashion Design at FIT while Blaine was hoping to major in Music Theatre at NYU Steinhardt. The decision had meant Kurt and Blaine had to put off living together for another year, but in the end Kurt knew it was the right decision. Now, after three hectic days apart, Kurt had managed to make his room a fashionable haven, become acquainted with his hipster roommate, hunted down his timetable so he could check it against Blaine's, and had even managed to get invited to several awesome parties this coming weekend. Everything was going so well Kurt should have known it was too good to last.

Stepping through the doorway of the small cosy coffee shop, Kurt had a brief moment to appreciate the strong smell of coffee that enveloped his senses before loud bawling assaulted his ears.

"And, and *sob* he'll find another cheerleader with a perfect nose *sob* and they'll fall in love and get married and have babies with perfect noses and *sob* I'll be alone with four cats heartbroken *sob* and no one will ever want me *sob* and I'll become a bitter Broadway failure!" Rachel then wailed dramatically, flinging herself back into Blaine's arms, while the rest of the patrons of the coffee shop subtlety started to edge away from the clearly deranged young woman.

"Why me? Why! It's not as if I asked for much, just to be a famous Broadway starlet while Finn cheers me on from the side-lines with our two children; sweet little Elphaba and darling handsome Cosmo. Was that really too much to dream for!" Kurt rolled his eyes and started walking towards them just as Blaine started rubbing small circles into Rachel's back while murmuring supporting noises and words into her ear.

"And if that wasn't enough my roommate is awful, I hate her. She's a stuck up diva who thinks she knows everything and she says she's the best singer and dancer in the whole of Julliard and," she blew her nose loudly on Blaine' s offered monogrammed handkerchief, "and that she plays eight instruments perfectly, and she won't shut up! And, and…" Rachel trailed off again to sob uncontrollably as Kurt met Blaine's eyes over her shoulder. He raised his eyebrows and his lips tilted upwards slightly, as if to bring attention to the similarities between Rachel and the girl she was describing. Blaine frowned disapprovingly while clearly trying not to laugh.

"I just wish I'd applied to Steinhardt with you, and then at least I wouldn't be so alone." She raised her head to stare at Blaine with wide Bambi eyes as her top lip quivered. Kurt could see Blaine wavering from his brief amusement, his eyes glinting as he embraced the mantle of knight in shining armour that came so naturally to him.

"You are wonderful Rachel," he said while stroking her hair, "Finn would be an idiot to ever look elsewhere. He loves you. And as for this roommate of yours, she's clearly never heard you sing because believe me darling you have one hell of a voice on you. You're the best singer I've ever heard." He paused and tilted his head to one side, "well, except for Kurt naturally. But definitely the best female voice I know!"

"Really? You really think that?"

Blaine glanced to Kurt, who was still stood hovering over them, and clearly tried to communicate something important with his waggling eyebrows that Kurt had a sinking suspicion had nothing to do with combining Blaine's single occupancy room and a jar of massage oil.

"Of course I do, and Kurt does too, don't you babe?" Rachel turned in Blaine's arms to stare at Kurt, smiling waveringly at him.

"Of course I do," Kurt gritted his teeth. "You're special Rachel. Why, you're the most ambitious person I know." Technically he hadn't lied…

Rachel turned back around, leaning again on Blaine's shoulder. "And Rachel, you're not alone in New York. Me and Kurt are here for you, aren't we Kurt?" He briefly glanced up at him just in time to see Kurt shake his head vigorously. Blaine continued as if he hadn't seen it. "And you know what we're going to do Rachel? We're going to go back to my room, and we're not going to leave until we've gorged ourselves on buckets of ice cream, 1950's romantic movies, scores of musicals and we've sung along to every word and note. Okay?" Rachel smiled tentatively as Kurt's lustful plans faded rapidly.

One incredibly long movie marathon later, six empty tubs of ice cream, two and a half amazing parties missed out on, and Rachel was smiling and acting condescendingly superior again while she criticised the performances of some of the actresses in the musicals they were watching. Clearly, at least in her eyes, she could do so much better. Blaine had finally fallen asleep halfway through their second showing of Gypsy despite Kurt and Rachel singing along to all the songs. And, even though Kurt had only managed to exchange a bare handful of kisses with his boyfriend who was now snoring adorably while curled around a large pillow, Kurt was having fun.

Soon the credits were rolling and Kurt could see the sun rising over the New York skyline and hear the beginnings of people starting to wake up and move around in the hallway outside Blaine's room.

"Thanks," Rachel said so softly Kurt almost missed it before Rachel was talking again. "I know this probably wasn't what you wanted to happen when you went to meet Blaine," Kurt tried to half-heartedly deny the accusation but Rachel just continued. "It's fine, I understand. I'm not as oblivious to other people's wants and needs as you all might think." Kurt bit his tongue. "But I just wanted to say it means a lot to me. Really. I," She turned to look at Blaine who had managed to make himself look even smaller he was curled up so tight, "I needed this. He's truly an amazing person Kurt. He's so perfect. He would literally follow you anywhere." She paused again and Kurt knew without her having to say anything that she was thinking of Finn and his refusal to join them in New York. "Don't ever let him go, okay? He's a keeper. The perfect man." She smiled wistfully.

Kurt could see how serious Rachel was, he squeezed her hand gently before patting it and letting go to lean closer to Blaine and start stroking his hair. He naturally moved closer to Kurt's hand, almost nuzzling into it in his sleep. "Believe me Rachel, I know. He's so kind and optimistic, always seeing the best in everyone. He's perfect. Why he stays with me I don't know, but god knows I love him too much to ever let him go."

*******Time shift*******

By 10am Kurt had arrived at the sparse, ultra-modern warehouse where the fashion show was due to take place. Looking around for Blaine and his distinctive mop of black curls but not seeing him, he quickly made his way to the back room to look over his new collection and make sure everything was in order. Another hour later, three tantrums from various models and a crisis patch up job of a large tear in a pair of trousers and Kurt was making his way to his seat, still on the lookout for his elusive partner. He knew Blaine was angry with him that the fashion show was happening today on their anniversary, even if he had tried to deny it due to wanting to avoid any confrontation. Blaine had wanted to take just one day out, stay at home and watch movies together like they used to that first summer they spent together before senior year. But Blaine had never missed a single one of his shows, even when it meant having to fly from New York, where he was currently working on Broadway, to Paris for only a few hours before flying back. He regularly told Kurt he loved seeing his creations come to life, that it was a vibrant visual manifestation of his amazing personality for everyone to see and how proud it made him, watching the shows, that Kurt was his to love and his alone. Yet all that greeted him when he finally sat down was an empty seat next to him. The lights dimmed as music began to play and the fashion show started.

Four hours later a blank phone greeted him when he turned it back on. No missed calls.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Sorry for late update, I had a last minute trip to Paris and then I've been busy with work plus I said I'd help take some school kids on a Victorian school trip and ARGH there's not enough hours in the day. Still here it is, hope you enjoy, and please review and tell me what you think :)

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><p><strong>The Damnable Ideal, Chapter 2<strong>

Itwas nearing the end of Kurt's first year at FIT and Coed Hall, his dormitory, were planning a fashion show in aid of charity – Kurt was in his element. He was doing a ten minute segment on men's fashion and his designs were simply fabulous. The fashion show may have been for charity, but Kurt knew every moment in the spotlight was an opportunity to make a name for himself, even if he was only a sophomore. If that wasn't enough to make Kurt smile beauteously throughout the rest of term, all of his classmates had been thoroughly helpful. Some of the upperclassmen had even gone out of their way and volunteered to model his designs on the big day. It had given Kurt hope that things truly were different, now he was in New York. That was, until he'd realised what they'd all done. Five male models Kurt had planned outfits for, had laboriously worked over, going whole days without sleep and even standing Blaine up on their daily coffee dates, to ensure his designs were flawless. Yet, only a few hours before the fashion show was due to start, there was no sign of them anywhere. There was supposed to be fittings and trial runs before the actual show, everything was going to be planned down to the last detail to ensure perfection incarnate. But Kurt had tried ringing them and every time it had gone straight through to their voicemails. By this point Kurt was near hysterical wondering what on earth could have happened to them and, thinking the worse, he had gone straight to Clarisse, one of the organisers of the fashion show, telling her of his worries.

"Oh, didn't you know? The upper years finish a few weeks before first years; they've all gone home for the summer." And with that bombshell she had strolled off leaving Kurt just stood there, frozen in disbelief.

That had been two hours ago and Rachel was still trying to draw Kurt out of the closet – the literal closet – that Kurt had hidden in as soon as he had regained the power of movement.

"Come on Kurt, this is getting ridiculous! You came out of the closet years ago. Don't let some jock wannabes throw you back in. It's dark and dingy in the closet!"

"Not if it leads to Narnia it's not." Kurt sniped back, although a tad muffled due to the large amounts of fake fur coats he was surrounded by that seemed to slowly be wrapping themselves dangerously around his throat. Great, Kurt thought, even inanimate objects hated him now!

"Fine, sulk in there all night for all I care. I hope you and your trucker hat are very happy together!"

Kurt could hear Rachel storming away; it seemed to be a common ending to their conversations these days. Sighing heavily, he slinked down the back wall of the closet to the floor, before pulling his knees up tight under his chin and wrapping his arms around his legs. He would just stay in here and wait out the embarrassment, the all-consuming shame of daring to think things could actually be different. It was just like Prom all over again, except this time Blaine wasn't there to hold out his hand and sweep him away in a dance. Blaine was currently in Boston where he was meeting up with some of his closest warbler friends and Kurt couldn't comprehend ringing him to ask him to come back early and pick him up as – due to Blaine and his warbler friends all going to different colleges and being so busy with sophomore year – this was the first chance they'd had to see each other in eight months. Rachel, it would appear, had no such qualms.

Twenty minutes before the show was about to start a soft knock was heard on the closet door.

"Kurt, babe. It's me. Blaine."

Kurt hesitantly opened the door, still sitting on the floor, and looked up at Blaine's most welcome face.

"Blaine," he implored, holding his arms up to be hugged. Blaine did one better, bending down to pick Kurt up and holding him close to his chest.

"I'm here babe."

Kurt snuggled into Blaine's neck, breathing in that earthy smell mixed with old spice that meant he was no longer alone.

"Ahem," someone coughed from behind Blaine, "I don't mean to be the scrooge that breaks this party up but we only have twenty minutes to get into costume and maybe have Kurt teach us how not to look stupid walking down a runway. I for one did not rush over on a train all the way from Boston just to fall at the last hurdle."

Kurt lifted his head from Blaine's shoulder to glance over at who had been speaking. "Wes?"

"The one and only, at your service, ready and willing to be primped and styled into the latest fabulous Hummel creation." He gave a jaunty bow in Kurt's direction.

"Me too," David piped in.

"And me," Jeff proceeded to elbow Nick until he mumbled another affirmation.

"And you've got little old me as well if it'll help. I know I'm hobbit sized and not really fashion show material, but I've been told by someone very close to me that I have a massive personality big enough to fill the whole room." He winked at Kurt before letting him slowly descend back to the floor.

"How–I don't…"

"Rachel texted all of us. Simultaneously. Multiple times. Hell, I don't even know how she got half of our numbers!" Nick answered, "We were having a warbler video marathon, watching all our best hits." He sighed heavily.

"You did use to be one of us Kurt," David said, ignoring Nick, "even if you left us so soon after Pavarotti had flown off to the big perch in the sky, leaving us in a double grief whammy. Despite that, you wore the blazer with pride and a certain je ne sais quoi. For that reason alone, as soon as we heard you needed help, we had to come."

"And even if you weren't, you're pretty much golden boy's wife," Jeff dangerously pointed out, "and well, that makes you part of the Dalton Warbler family."

"Thanks – I think – Jeff." Kurt drawled back at him. "But seriously guys, this is too much, I mean you came all the way over from Boston just for me? I can't even…" Kurt trailed over, overwhelmed by what they had all done for him.

"They did it because they're your friends Kurt," Rachel piped in, having popped up from nowhere, before gesturing to an open door behind her. "Now come on ladies, the love fest is over, time waits for no Diva. Well, apart from me. It always waits for me." And with that last remark she twirled on the spot before walking off into the backroom, the five Warblers trailing behind her like ducklings their mother, while Kurt followed bemusedly. Then, just as they were entering the backroom, Blaine paused in front of him to hold out his hand. Kurt took hold of it only to be pulled into a quick, yet lingering, kiss.

"You're wonderful Kurt; don't let anyone ever tell you any different."

Kurt could only smile back, feeling a warm glow settling over his chest, as he looked into his boyfriend's sincere eyes.

*******Time shift*******

Kurt was starting to worry. Sure, they'd had an argument the night before. But they were both stressed with work, it was normal. Maybe Kurt had spoken a bit too harshly calling Blaine a walkover, but Blaine knew Kurt was like that every now and then. He didn't mean anything by it. Yet, when Kurt had gone back to the hotel to get ready for their dinner reservations that evening, it was clear Blaine hadn't been back to the hotel either. Still, Blaine would be there tonight and maybe they could discuss what had gone wrong over dinner like the adults they were supposed to be. He'd apologise for not taking Blaine's opinions into account and being rude, Blaine would say sorry for missing the fashion show and not telling Kurt where he was… and then they could go back to their hotel and partake in some vigorous make-up sex. Already the day was starting to look better.

All dressed up in a gorgeous Hummel creation, Kurt sauntered up to the private elevator entrance of the Jules Verne restaurant. Kurt had been looking forward to dining in the Eiffel Tower Michelin star restaurant for a while now; one of Blaine's colleagues had recommended it to them. Apparently the views were to die for and the food simply exquisite. But the dinner reservations were for 8pm and, looking down at his watch, Kurt saw it was now 7.50pm – there was still no sign of Blaine. Glancing down at his mobile he saw there was also no reply to his text about where they were meeting for tonight. Kurt gripped it tightly and tried not to get ahead of himself. It could all still be explained away, he was sure of it. Blaine might have run out of battery, he was always chatting away to people whether it was his agent back in New York or his current cast members to discuss possible scene arrangements. Or he could already be up there putting the finishing touches to his grand romantic gesture, ready to showcase his love for all of Paris to see. He nodded resolutely to himself and stepped up to the lift, showed his reservation number, and then began his ascent to the second floor where he was sure Blaine would be waiting, or if not that he would be soon. After all, they were in Paris, the city of love, at one of the most romantic sites in the world. Nothing could go wrong. He leant back on the lift wall and glanced out to admire the view whizzing past – framed by the elegant lines of the tower's iron structure. Paris at night from the Eiffel Tower was truly an inspiring sight. Kurt remembered the first time he'd seen it, how overwhelmed he'd felt and how much he'd wished he could share the experience with Blaine, and soon he would.

*******Time shift*******

It was the end of their first year at college. The whole summer loomed in front of Kurt and, although he wished he could be spending it with Blaine, he knew the summer programme Professor Blackwood had suggested he take after seeing his showcase at Coed Hall's charity fashion show, interning at fashion houses in both Paris and Milan, was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"And it's not as if it's even for the whole summer, only three quarters. Plus, it means you can apply to work at Six Flags again guilt free, and when I get back we'll still have ages left to find that perfect little flat for next year with just enough room for your piano and my wardrobe – though goodness knows how we'll find anywhere big enough for my wardrobe… and maybe a cat… or maybe we should just have Rachel as our pet? She's pretty much like a cat with the whole 'superior than thou' attitude and the bitchiness and, well, that time she clawed Santana at Senior Prom. I reckon she'd be quite cheap to feed and water too, especially with that strict food programme Julliard has her on." Kurt rambled on while they walked down Broadway hand in hand. They'd just gone to see Wicked for the fourth time to celebrate surviving first year.

"Kurt," Blaine smiled fondly, "You don't have to explain yourself to me, if you want to go on this programme that's fine. It's one step closer to realising your dreams. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to miss you," He lifted Kurt's hand to his lips and lightly kissed the backs of his knuckles before stopping walking to look straight into his eyes, "but babe, I could never stand between you and your dreams. They mean too much to you. When I look at how excited this makes you how could I ever stand in the way of that? It just reminds me of why I fell in love with you, how full of life, and hopes and dreams you are, whatever the world throws at you."

Kurt blushed. "I thought I told you to stop calling me babe," he said trying to change the subject, uncomfortable with how much he wanted to leap on Blaine right now and snog him senseless, crowds of tourists be damned.

"Please Kurt," Blaine smirked wickedly, the seriousness of before instantly forgotten, "You know you love it when I call you babe." Then he winked, let go of Kurt's hand and strolled off towards the subway. Kurt was almost certain he was wiggling his bum provocatively; the quick sultry glance Blaine threw over his shoulder confirmed it. Kurt gulped and hurried after him as he tried to roughly calculate how many hours' worth of mutual exploration they could try and fit into the next two days before his flight to Paris.

Two months later Kurt was back in New York sat in their local coffee shop, waiting to meet up with Rachel and Blaine after his summer programme in Milan and Paris. He had loved every minute of it but was glad to be home. Home, Kurt smiled at the thought, because that's what New York had become. He quickly ordered his and Blaine's coffees before going over to where Rachel was sat. He'd barely taken a sip before Rachel bombarded him with her excitable conversation style whilst bouncing up and down in her seat, clearly agitated.

"I just can't believe Blaine turned them down – I mean it wasn't the best offer ever, sure, but it would have been a start and he could have built on it and with work and effort he really could have…"

"I'm sorry, what?" Kurt interrupted quickly, completely confused, before Rachel could pass out from lack of breath.

"You mean he didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what Rachel? I swear down if you don't start making sense right now I will take that deplorable teddy jumper you're wearing that frankly should not be seen outside of an ironic modern interpretive art venture and ram it down your throat. And believe me, thats no cashmere hun, that polyester car crash will rip your vocal chords to shreds!"

Rachel fiddled with said monstrosity, pouting. "I mean about Blaine turning down the offer from this big TV producer who spotted him at Six Flags last month. He said he was trying to put a pilot together for a new musical TV show and wanted him to audition for the one of the lead roles. I think it was going to be called Happy, or Glee, or…"

"Rachel!"

"Right, anyway. It was going to be in Los Angeles, of course, and when Blaine found out he said no. Straight off, just like that. No. I mean he's crazy. Said he wanted to finish his degree first. Stupid, if you ask me. I mean, I know it might not have gone anywhere, but it's a start isn't it? And it's so hard to get anywhere in show business these days. My tutor was telling me only last week how many auditions she had to go through before she got her first break. Obviously the same won't happen to me, I'm sure people will realise how incredible my talent is, already my voice tutor was saying I could be…"

"But why, I don't understand." Kurt interrupted, looking up at Rachel so lost she instantly stopped her tirade, went to his side and grabbed hold of his hand.

"Isn't it obvious silly? I think it's ridiculous, you wouldn't see me ever doing such an idiotic move. But it's clear to me his reasons."

"What? I don't–I…"

"He knows how much moving in with him into that poky little flat of yours with the cat and the much too loud neighbours and all that that entails means to you. He knows that if he'd said yes he'd have to leave you behind in New York Kurt, and that's something he could never do."

"But I–I…" Kurt started glancing around as if looking for the words to express what he was feeling.

"He loves you, Kurt. He just wants you to be happy."

The door of the coffee shop opened and Blaine came in. His eyes instantly went over to their table and he smiled widely as he spotted Kurt sitting there already with his coffee order. Kurt couldn't help but smile back. Just looking into Blaine's loving eyes he knew why Blaine hadn't told him, why Blaine had said no, and more importantly he knew how goddamn lucky he was to have such a perfect man to call his own.

"Hey babe," Blaine bent down to kiss the tip of his nose. "Missed you so much," quickly he kissed his lips before sitting next to him and holding hands. "So, what were you talking about? Anything exciting," Blaine smiled even wider as he started playing with Kurt's fingers.

"Oh you know, just the usual. Telling Rachel how your grandma called asking for Rachel to give her wardrobe back." Kurt joked before looking meaningfully at Rachel.

"Hey, I've met grandma warbler. She has amazing fashion sense." Rachel replied, for once playing ball.

"Yeah, for an eighty year old woman," Kurt snapped back, his smile taking any sting out of his words.

Blaine merely sat back in his seat smiling softly to himself while Kurt continued to bicker with Rachel, but without his usual vitriol, happy in the knowledge that Blaine was content thinking Kurt didn't know about the sacrifice he'd made for him, that Blaine wouldn't want him to know. Recognition, after all, was not why Blaine had done it. But, just because Kurt wasn't going to let on that he knew, didn't mean he wouldn't remember. Kurt refused to forget how perfect Blaine was or how much Kurt loved him for it and he knew, one day, he'd make it up to him.

*******Time shift*******

Kurt sat at a small table in the restaurant overlooking le Champ de Mars. It truly was a wonderful sight which all things considered was rather lucky considering Kurt's eyes had been trained on the view all evening so as to avoid the mixture of pitying looks from fellow diners and the hostile glances from his waiter.

A soft buzzing noise came from his left pocket and, with trepidation, he pulled out his mobile phone to read the text he had just received. It was from Blaine and merely said the one word, 'Sorry'.

Instantly the waiter was upon him, seemingly oblivious to the waves of anger emanating from Kurt. "Will Monsieur's guest be joining him soon?" He asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening as he hovered over his table. Kurt deigned not to answer, clearly he was not being joined by anyone anytime soon, and instead turned to his waiter and proceeded to order in flawless French a bottle of the restaurant's finest white wine, homard de nos côtes to start with, followed by pigeon en crapaudine cuit au sautoir for main and to finish l'écrou au chocolat. The waiter broke character momentarily to blink owlishly back at him before his façade fell back into place as if the slip had never occurred.

"Bien, un excellent choix Monsieur. Le vin est merveilleux cette année." The waiter enthused before beginning to take away the spare set of cutlery opposite Kurt. Kurt just smiled grimly back. After all, he was Kurt Hummel – fashion designer extraordinaire – and he had come to this restaurant to enjoy a fantastic meal and he was damn well going to enjoy it, his own tumultuous emotions could go hang.

So, with his tears kept tightly under control, and gripping his knife and fork so tightly as to make his waiter worry that he was going to use them for an altogether different purpose, Kurt proceeded to act as nonchalant as possible, eating his way through the various decadent dished displayed before him. And as each mouthful turned to ash in his mouth, he tried in vain to pretend the pain in his chest was merely from eating too fast in his haste to leave.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thank you to everyone who alerted and favourite this story, it means a lot to me :) Although only 1 review makes me a very unmotivated writer :( So please review and tell me what you think, whether good or bad, as constructive criticism is the only way I can get better.

Also, what song would you have one of them propose to the other with? Thinking of changing my current song choice but can't think what to, so any suggestions would be most appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Again thank you to those who favourited and alerted, hope you enjoy this chapter and please please review so I know what you like/don't like :-)

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><p><strong>The Damnable Ideal, Chapter 3<strong>

Kurt was curled up in the corner of his and Blaine's small bedroom, crying softly as he hung on tight to his mother's spring yellow blouse that he had brought with him to New York. Sometimes, when he held it tight enough, he could almost pretend he could smell her perfume again underlain by that smell that was his mum's pure scent; a mixture of starched linen and freshly made cookies. It always used to cheer him up when he was younger as it was like being hugged by his mum again, the feeling of warmth and love that only a mother can give that he had never quite forgotten even after all these years. Now, however, it merely served to remind Kurt how much his life seemed to resemble a Meryl Streep movie. He'd thought life would be different now he was in New York, that Ohio was too small minded for the fabulousness that was Kurt Hummel, but the fashion world of New York? They would welcome him with open arms. Yet – only two weeks after finishing at FIT, receiving the highest marks in his year, and seeing his father break down and cry over how proud his mum would have been seeing him on his graduation day – Kurt had received his first newspaper review. The show being critiqued was FIT's professional runway show, "The Future of Fashion". A way of showcasing the best talents FIT had graduating that year, Kurt had put his heart and soul into his designs. He knew how important making a good impression would be and that was why the review had shook him so badly. Even now he couldn't quite comprehend that a mere five hundred spiteful words could literally ruin his career before it had even begun.

While Kurt was having a minor breakdown in the corner, Rachel was sat on the nearby bed, legs crossed, reading out the highlights. Again.

"Outfits so flamboyantly gay, as to instantly become a caricature of the worst of all gay stereotypes, Hummel has then wrapped them up in gaudy satin bows to present for our viewing displeasure."

He groaned loudly before slamming his head back against the wall and then curling up even tighter.

"Now really Kurt, there's no need to be so dramatic." Kurt snorted in disbelief. "All critique is good critique, Kurt. It will only make you stronger in the end. You will rise up against this tyranny and like Elpheba herself; no one will ever keep you down. Well, except for when they refuse to give you a job and then you lose this flat and end up living on the streets and Blaine runs off with a much more successful actress with blonde hair who apparently doesn't whinge all the time and can eat pork and…"

"Rachel!" Kurt interrupted, "you truly are a wonderful friend, your sympathy is endless and your compassion rivalled only by the late Mother Theresa. Now kindly _fuck off_."

"Well," she huffed, "I thought you of all people would appreciate the truth," before flouncing out of the room back to her bedroom, making sure to slam the door behind her.

An hour later Kurt heard the front door open followed by the familiar footsteps of his partner coming towards their bedroom before quietly moving to sit next to where Kurt was still curled up on the floor.

"Kurt, babe, you shouldn't do that. You'll crease the fabric. Isn't that an Alexander McQueen creation?"

Kurt raised his head, "It's a Dries van Noten actually," he sniffed. Blaine couldn't help but smile at the cute picture he made, his nose all cherry red and his hair adorably ruffled.

"I love you." He said abruptly, before grabbing onto Kurt's hand and pulling him up to stand next to him. "But if you don't get out of this funk right now I'm going to have to start dishing out the dance moves in an attempt to cheer you up, and we know that never ends well."

Kurt smiled faintly, "no one in their right mind says 'funk' anymore Blaine."

"I do."

There Kurt actually smirked, "Point made."

"Cheeky thing," he tweaked Kurt's nose, "come on, we're going out for a romantic stroll."

"Broadway again?"

"Nope, Central Park. Thought I'd mix it up a little bit." Blaine replied absently while he opened Kurt's wardrobe and started pulling out possible clothing combinations.

"Ooh, Blaine Warbler living vicariously on the edge!" Kurt giggled, his mood having already lightened now he was with Blaine.

"Damn straight! I'm a regular rebel I am." He tried to strike a gangsta pose, he also failed miserably.

Kurt chuckled, "Come on then Big D, let's get this show on the road."

Within no time at all it seemed they were sat in central park near the fountain. Blaine had even brought a picnic of all of Kurt's favourite homemade foods – Rachel had clearly helped out as the boy was hazardous around kitchen appliances – and a lovely red polka dot picnic rug that they were currently lying down next to each other on, their left hands entwined while they occasionally fed each other morsels of food. The park was buzzing; nearby street performers on stilts acting out a comedic sketch, a group of guys playing Frisbee quite ferociously nearby. But all Kurt could see and hear was Blaine's eyes staring back at him and his soft pulse beating, one two, one two, to a song Kurt couldn't imagine not being allowed to listen to. So Kurt can be forgiven for not hearing what Blaine was saying straight away, or seeing his lips shape out the words that would change his life. Realising Kurt was still oblivious Blaine waved his hand in front of his face, effectively breaking Kurt from the spell he was under, before pulling Kurt up into a sitting position.

"Kurt," he began again. "These past few years have been amazing, beyond amazing. I've come to love you so much more than I ever thought humanly possible. I crave your smiles, the fleeting touch of your fingertips, your snarky remarks when you get annoyed at me. There isn't a single part of you I don't adore and, well, I wanted to do something to show you how much you mean to me." Blaine suddenly pulled out a microphone from the picnic basket. "This is for you Kurt" he said, the microphone amplifying his voice, "I hope you know how much you mean to me and how much better you make each and every day by simply knowing there's someone as beautiful as you in the world." And before Kurt could so much as reply Blaine started crooning into the microphone while looking soulfully into his eyes…

"Give me the moonlight

Give me the girl

And leave the rest to me."

Blaine jumped up to his feet,

"Give me a shady nook

By a babbling brook

Where no one else can see."

He winked at him before starting to do a slow two step shuffle from side to side.

"Give me a bench for two

Where we can bill and coo

And mine she's gonna be

If there's anyone in doubt

And they'd like to try me out

Give me the moonlight"

He struck a dramatic pose,

"Give me the girl…"

Suddenly all of the picnic goers around them seemed to bring trumpets out from behind their backs and started playing along as Blaine grabbed hold of Kurt's hands before dragging him over to the fountain. "Oh god," Kurt flushed bright red.

"And leave the rest to me…"

Blaine sung louder before jumping up onto the fountain just as the group of men who'd been playing Frisbee earlier joined him and they started tap dancing to the trumpets. Then, as the performers on stilts seemed to converge on Kurt, swaying to and fro and humming along, and a piano from god knows where started to join in on the melody, Blaine jumped off the fountain and strode towards Kurt; arms open wide as he belted out the words again.

"Give me a bench for two

Where we can bill and coo

And mine she's gonna be

If there's anyone in doubt

And they'd like to try me out

Give me the moonlight,

Well - give me the girl

And leave the rest to me!"

He spun around, before picking Kurt up and spinning him too.

"And leave the rest to me!" He extended the last note as he spun around again, arms stretched out before falling to his knees in front of Kurt, panting with exertion and nerves, as the last notes on the trumpets and piano trailed off and the park fell to silence.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, will you do me the greatest honor possible and marry me so that I can spend the rest of my life trying to make you smile." He opened up a small ring box and lifted it up towards Kurt, his hands shaking.

"Blaine?"

"Yes Kurt?"

"It's a sunny summer's day."

"Umm…"

"The fountain could hardly be called babbling."

"What…"

"Everyone can see."

"Well…"

"And I'm a boy."

"Ahh…"

Kurt giggled at Blaine's perplexed face before grabbing it and kissing him for all he was worth, trying to show through the press of his lips and the brush of his tongue how truly, madly, deeply in love he was with this precious, precious man. Breaking away for breath, but continuing to hold onto the sides of his face as if afraid it would all have been a dream if he ever let go, he took a deep intake of breath…

"Yes, of course, forever, always. What other answer could I give?"

It seemed the whole park burst into cheers at the same time as Blaine leaped into the air with joy, fist pumping energetically.

"Hell yes, oh god! He said yes! He said yes everyone! You said yes Kurt! Oh god. Ha! Fuck yeah!"

Kurt couldn't help but burst into peals of laughter as his boyfriend, no, his fiancé proceeded to bounce around like a new born puppy.

And if a week later Kurt cut out a small article from the local newspaper gushing about the romantic musical proposal that took place in Central Park and pasted it into a blank notebook with the caption "Our first review" next to it? Well, no one need know.

*******Time shift*******

Kurt stormed back to the hotel room, absolutely livid having spent a mortifying evening at the restaurant by himself. He flung open the door, not even wincing when it slammed against the wall. Silence greeted him. It wasn't till now that Kurt realised he'd still been expecting Blaine to be there, sat on the sofa waiting for him with an excuse and an apology. He wasn't. Kurt gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and breathed in deeply. The bastard, the utter bastard. Sure, things had been tense these last few days, but to bloody disappear on their anniversary with only a single word text to even show he was still alive? That was going too far. Had he found someone else? Had he decided being with Kurt was too much? Had he simply given up? He'd thought they were happy. Weren't they? Had he been so blind that he hadn't noticed Blaine slipping away until he was already gone? He'd been distant all of last night, hell he'd been distant all week ever since they'd come to Paris, more introvert. As if he was hiding something from him…

Kurt let out a brief strangled scream before running to the desk in the corner where Blaine had been working on some correspondence the previous night before Kurt had tried to distract him with champagne. He flung the papers in the air and then, with a sweeping gesture, threw Blaine's laptop and planner at the sofa where Blaine had turned down his advances, even when he'd started to strip off seductively, claiming he was too drunk. The laptop bounced back and hit the glass table with a sharp crack as it shattered into millions of pieces; echoing how Kurt's heart was feeling.

Kurt pulled at his hair looking around wildly, trying to control his rage. He stared at the shards of glittering glass that lay at his feet. He could make Blaine so sorry, he could destroy him, he could do it. Kurt let out another strangled scream before kicking the corner of the sofa viciously and hurrying over to the bathroom.

Kurt stood, panting in front of the bathroom mirror, surprised by the wild stranger that looked back. This wasn't the famous designer who had lines of luxury clothing sold in stores across New York, Paris, Milan and London by the time he was 26; who had given himself a pep talk in the mirror about how fabulous he was before going on stage to open his 10th fashion show in Paris. Nor was this the young boy of only 16 who had stared at his red face in the mirror, tears streaming down his cheeks, as he tried again and again to scrub off the taint Karofsky had left behind on his lips before his dad came home from work. No, this was a Kurt he'd never seen before. He was furious, he was devastated. He was empty, he was overflowing with emotion. He didn't know who he was, what he was, how he was. And so he stopped looking, left the bathroom, and crawled under the cold satin covers, never getting warm due to the open window Kurt couldn't bring himself to close. What a wonderful way to spend his five year anniversary, he thought bitterly. And for the first time in seven years Kurt cried himself to sleep, desperately wishing he had his mum's spring yellow blouse to hold and to hug.

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><p>AN: Hope you liked :-) The song was Give Me the Moonlight by Frankie Vaughn. Please review and tell me what you thought.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been two years since Blaine had proposed to Kurt in Central park and they were still no closer to actually getting married. There simply hadn't been enough time to organise anything, as soon after that fateful day Kurt's career had taken off and he had been in constant demand since. Blaine was in a similar situation, having managed to land a lead role in a new musical that was to start on Broadway next month. It was as if the world was conspiring against their union and Kurt had said as such that evening when he and Blaine had finally managed to schedule in some 'quality' time together amidst their busy lives. Lying naked next to each other, his fingers absently playing with the hair on Blaine's chest, he had complained vigorously.

"Well then, why don't we?" Blaine had cut in.

"Don't what?"

"Get married, now. Well, not this instant, but next month. You have a week off in July and my show doesn't start till August…"

"But how will I find the time to plan it Blaine, really. Be realistic." Kurt scoffed, although he looked down wistfully at his engagement ring.

"I'll plan it. I've only got four hours of rehearsal a day this coming month, which leaves me plenty of time to sort everything out." He smiled hopefully at Kurt.

"You're serious."

"Deadly. Listen, babe, I know it's not your ideal. I know you'd prefer to plan it for months, making sure every single detail was perfect. But I just want to be married to you, I want to finally be able to point you out to people and say; look, that's my husband, isn't he beautiful."

Kurt blushed, "I don't know, I…"

"Please Kurt. Let me do this for you." Blaine gave Kurt his puppy eyes and Kurt instantly knew that, however long they spent talking it over, in the end he would cave and say yes.

And so, one month later, Kurt was nervously adjusting his cufflinks while he and his dad waited for their transport to arrive and take them to the wedding ceremony.

"You look so handsome Kurt; I wish your mum could see you now. And stop fussing, everything's going to be perfect, Blaine is going to be perfect. Trust me." Burt squeezed Kurt's shoulder before walking out of the front door to keep an eye out for their transport.

Blaine had decided that, since Kurt hadn't been able to put any work into the wedding planning, rather than have him worrying over the details and not being able to find the time to do anything about it, Kurt should have absolutely no knowledge of what the wedding would entail and instead the whole day was to be a surprise. Kurt could never say all of Blaine's ideas were the greatest, but his heart was always in the right place at least.

"Transport's here," Burt called through the front door.

Funny, Kurt thought to himself, he hadn't heard a car pull up. The lack of engine noise was quickly explained as he stepped out of his front door to see a large carriage decorated with deep purple ribbons and fronted by two pitch black horses.

"Wow!" Kurt smiled; he would definitely be making an entrance.

Half an hour later and Kurt could see Central Park coming closer and closer. Could it be? Kurt had always wanted to have his wedding in New York and, since his mum had first shown her holiday pictures of when she visited New York as a teenager, he'd always wanted to get married at Central Park. So, when they started to pull into the actual park, Kurt couldn't stop grinning.

"Oh my god dad, do you know where we are! Do you know where we are?" He was all but bouncing up and down in his seat.

"Wait Kurt, it gets better." Burt replied mysteriously, before sitting back to enjoy seeing his son looking so happy.

Soon they were getting out of the carriage and Kurt recognised where they were heading, to the Angel of the Waters, the Bethesda Fountain. Kurt couldn't believe it; it wasn't just similar to what he wanted, it was exactly what he wanted. Slowly Kurt began to see where all the guests were sat before he spotted Blaine; his wonderful, amazing, perfect, ideal fiancé. Soon to be husband. Kurt hadn't even known it was possible to smile any wider than he already had been.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a glorious blur of scenes from the moment Blaine had whispered to him how beautiful he looked while fleetingly touching his fingertips against Kurt's, to saying I do in a chocked up voice, to the moment when Blaine had dipped him to kiss him so gently as his hand had caressed his cheek.

After the photos had been taken, Blaine and Kurt started to stroll to where the reception was to take place.

"It's at the boathouse restaurant isn't it?" Kurt said swinging on Blaine's hand as he clutched at the deep purple freesia Blaine had given him.

"How do you know? Did someone slip up and tell you?"

Blaine sounded so heartbroken that Kurt quickly interrupted. "No, no honey. It's just, this is my perfect wedding. The wedding I planned years ago. I'd made a scrapbook and everything. It's been lost for years now but I still remember what I'd dreamed of in those pages and this does seem to be my dream wedding so…" He trailed off hoping Blaine didn't think he was weird.

"Kurt, I have a confession to make." He paused long enough for Kurt to start to worry. "I wanted to give you your perfect wedding so badly that I went back to Lima to talk to your dad about it and, while we were both looking through your closets for design and color ideas, we came across a taped up box and – well – we opened it. I know we shouldn't have, but your wedding scrapbook was in it with all of your ideas and plans and dreams just written there waiting for me to read! It was like you were planning the wedding after all and I was just seeing out your wishes. Please don't be angry."

"Oh, Blaine. You silly, perfect man. How could I ever be angry at you? You've given me everything I could ever ask for and more. I love you so much Blaine Hummel-Anderson." He grinned inanely down at him as Blaine grinned inanely right back.

"I love you too Kurt Anderson-Hummel, with all my heart." Blaine leaned up to kiss him again. "I suppose now would be a good time to discuss that 'more' criteria you mentioned…"

Eight hours later and Blaine and Kurt were dancing away to the combined forces of the Warblers and New Directions, reunited and joining forces for one night only.

As the stars shone brightly down on the happy couple as they twirled by the lake side, being serenaded by some of their oldest friends, their love for each other clear for all to see; life seemed perfect.

"Shall we retire to our honeymoon suite oh husband of mine?" Kurt breathed huskily into Blaine's ear as another song came to an end.

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So only one more chapter after this guys! Hopefully will be up tomorrow. Please review and tell me what you thought, it would mean a lot to me to know what you all think about it :-)


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt stumbled to his feet, heading towards the still open window to close it. Feeling numb and with his eyes glued shut from crying all night, Kurt didn't see the shards of glass until it was too late and he had stood on some of them. Pain shot through his feet, instantly dispelling his dreamlike state and leaving only the cold, harsh morning light in its wake.

"Fuck, shit!" He hung his head and started to cry again as he looked at the floor where a small blot of red rested on a sharp splinter of glass. He bent down to pick it up, not even thinking of the danger it represented, but before he could he saw a newspaper clipping on the floor next to it. He must have thrown it there last night with the rest of Blaine's notes. Maybe it could tell Kurt something about why Blaine had crushed his heart so brutally?

His fingers gently grasped it and brought it up to his face. It was an obituary. Kurt's face lost all its color as his knuckles gripped the clipping tight in his hand, crumpling it up. Oh god, oh god. What had he done?

He quickly ran to the pile of papers on the floor heedless of the glass, picking up each sheet and glancing at it before throwing them to one side, until he found what he was seeking. Oh Blaine, honey, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I was so oblivious, Kurt thought, before taking the sheet and the newspaper clipping and throwing them into his Versace clutch bag.

In only ten minutes, surely an all-time record for Kurt, he was dressed and out the door running to the nearest metro and praying to whoever would listen that he'd still be there, that he could find him, that he could apologise for being so oblivious to his needs; for only seeing the perfect front and not looking any deeper.

Twenty minutes of tapping his foot impatiently on the train, and scaring all of his fellow passengers, Kurt was running up the steps of Gambetta station and then towards the entrance of Père Lachaise Cemetery. If Kurt had been in his right mind he might have been able to admire the early morning crisp air, the line upon line of beautiful bowing trees marking his run. Instead, all Kurt could picture was the two pieces of paper he had with him. The first was the obituary of Mr and Mrs Michael Anderson. It was an old clipping and according to the writing on it they had died in a car crash one year ago yesterday; on Kurt and Blaine's anniversary. The other piece of paper had been a letter in a handwriting Kurt had recognised to be Blaine's older brother, James. It had stated what had happened in unassuming words, almost cruel in its lack of emotion.

It had been so sudden; they had been living in Paris for three years when it happened, having moved to an old Anderson family home after Michael, Blaine's father, had retired. Death had been instant upon impact and they had died on site. He hadn't sent word because he didn't think Blaine would care. After all, Blaine hadn't spoken to them or seen them in five years. Not since his wedding to Kurt when they'd finally had to accept it wasn't just a phrase he was going to get over. They had a family plot in Père Lachaise that went back five generations. It had been a large ceremony; they'd been much loved in their local community. He was sending this letter now as James had seen an article on Kurt's fashion show in Paris and had thought it would be a good time to tell Blaine about his parents since he was in town. How they'd died on his anniversary. How ironic it was and how maybe Blaine should spend it apologising to his parents' grave for causing them so much pain and grief. For being such a failure of a son. For not being there for them when they needed him the most.

Kurt really, really hated that despicable man. How Blaine could be related to such cruel men as his father and brother he would never know. Kurt remembered when Blaine's family had found out about them, how shocked he had been when Blaine had turned up to Mckinley High on the first day of their senior year. He had been too happy to question it at first, how the purple and red mottled bruise on his cheek was still visible even through the obvious attempts of hiding it with concealer. No, it was not till much later that he found out what had happened. That Blaine had been staying over at a friend's house. That he'd been thrown out and could no longer afford the Dalton fees with the meagre funds he had saved up in case such a situation should ever arise. He had been too proud to talk to Kurt about it, pride had always been one of his biggest downfalls, and Blaine had always managed to keep up his perfect front throughout those troublesome months before Blaine's parents had allowed him back home, although their relationship had never been the same again. Only Santana, whom he had become close friends with during his time at Mckinley, had understood what he was going through. She also used a façade to hide behind, a mask to protect herself from anyone that might harm her. Even Kurt broke his 'queen bitch' character from time to time; his first visit to Dalton when he'd realised his life could actually be different, watching his father lying so still in the hospital bed unable to hold his hand. Kurt wouldn't let Blaine block him out this time though, wouldn't let him hide behind his perfect façade like he had so many times in the past.

Passing the entrance desk of the cemetery Kurt asked for a map from the guard in fluent French before setting off for where he thought Blaine's parents had been buried according to the letter; hoping with everything he had that he'd be able to find Blaine in this morbid maze of gravestones, monuments and trees.

Head held high he strode down the avenue in front of him, glancing around before freezing in place only minutes later. Kurt blinked to make sure it wasn't just his imagination, but Blaine's curly mop of dark hair was still there, his body hunched over itself, sat down in front of a monument of a male angel covered in red lipstick and graffiti. Tiptoeing forward, as if worried he would scare him off, he reached down to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Blaine," he whispered with so much meaning.

Blaine slowly turned his face up to him, his deep brown eyes shimmering with unspent tears as he smiled waveringly.

"You came."

Kurt tried to smile back, although it came out as more of a grimace, before he folded up his long jean clad legs and sat down next to Blaine on the cold curb.

Time passed slowly as Kurt simply stayed there, his right side pressed up against Blaine's left, and just took in the view. It had been less than two days but already Kurt knew he never wanted to leave Blaine's side for that long again. He reached out for Blaine's wrist and placed two fingers over his pulse, letting Blaine's natural rhythm wash over him. One, two. One, two. And he tried to show with his presence alone that he was here now, that Blaine could just be. There would be time for questions later; where had he been last night, why hadn't he called. But for now Kurt would love him and heal him, like Blaine had always done for him.

More time passed.

"We came here when I was eight." The sudden noise sounded loud in the near empty cemetery, most of the tourists still being in bed. "I remember. We celebrated my birthday at this small restaurant nearby. All of my dad's French relatives were there. And afterwards dad said we should visit my ancestors. That I should know my heritage." Blaine glanced down to where Kurt's fingers were still pressed against his pulse.

"We came in the entrance nearest Gambetta station and as we were walking down to the family plot we passed this grave, Oscar Wilde's grave. There were two men sat in front of it holding hands, writing a message on the base in bright red lipstick while some female tourists were kissing it, leaving lip imprints all over the angel's legs. Dad had tightened his grip on my hand and dragged me away muttering about how much of a disgrace it was that such a man as him was allowed to be buried amongst normal upstanding citizens, never mind being idolised and appreciated by other freaks. That people like him didn't deserve love." Blaine looked back at the monument. "I hadn't understood what he meant at the time, but the memory stuck with me and when I was older, when I looked back, I… I…"

"Shush, honey, it's okay." Kurt started to rub the small of Blaine's back with his free hand.

"I knew… I knew he could never accept me. Would never accept me. And I tried, I tried so goddamn hard to be _who_ he wanted, to be who everyone wanted; to be perfect in every other way so maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't matter. But he couldn't see past it, neither of them could. And I knew that, I always knew that."

He wiped his tears away with his sleeve, smiled at Kurt. "I'm sorry..." he started and Kurt could already see the mask dropping back into place.

"Don't," Kurt said before kissing him hard, brutal even. "Don't do this Blaine. I adore it when you do and when you say the most perfect things. How much you give and give. How much you've always protected me, been there for me, and made it so easy to love you. But Blaine, I love you. All of you. And when you need me most, when you need protecting, when you need to take and not give. That's when I'll love you the most, because that's when you need it the most."

Blaine simply blinked up at him, his mouth open in a small 'o' of shock, before glancing again at the foot of the monument where he had placed the flowers he had meant to place at his parent's grave.

"I didn't bring a vase…"

Kurt started to unlace his left converse and began to pull it off as Blaine looked on in puzzlement.

"Kurt… what are you doing?"

"Well I'd thought that was obvious dummy, I'm giving you a vase. Two in fact if you stop sitting there all dumb and make yourself useful," Kurt said with a sardonic lift of one eyebrow as he tossed the shoe to one side and placed his right foot in Blaine's lap.

Blaine gave a soft smile as his hands fell to Kurt's ankle and he subconsciously started to stroke circles at either side. "But you love these Kurt."

"And I love you more, and if my husband wants a vase then I'll damn well give him a vase. Anyway, it's terribly apropos for a famous designer don't you think?" He flicked his hair and struck a self-important pose before both he and Blaine burst into giggles despite the situation.

Blaine undid the right converse and slipped it off before bending and kissing Kurt's bare ankle. "Thank you." He whispered as he looked up at Kurt adoringly through his eyelashes. "What did I do to deserve you?" He asked wonderingly.

"I could ask the same thing. Come on," Kurt rose to his knees and reached for the discarded shoe, placing it reverently before the base of the monument.

Quickly, Blaine placed the other beside it and then passed the flowers to Kurt.

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"You're the one that's good at design," he said with a shrug of his shoulders

"Doesn't mean it extends to flower arrangements," Kurt shot back but took them and started to arrange them anyway.

Once everything was to his satisfaction he sat back next to Blaine on the curb just in front of the monument and bumped shoulders with him.

"You know, it's really quite a heterosexual monument all covered in red lipstick like that… can't say as a gay man myself I'd like thousands of women slobbering all over me. Especially in last season's colors. The least they could do is be in fashion. Now, a line of hunky men prostrating themselves at my memorial all dressed in the latest couture perhaps…" Kurt trailed off as Blaine gave a chocked laugh before tears started to fall again down his cheeks. "Oh honey, I'm here now…" Kurt placed his hands either side of Blaine's face as he pressed his forehead to Blaine's and stared into his eyes. "You don't have to be strong anymore Blaine, I'm here. You can cry, you can be sad. I'm here for you. I won't love you any less."

"I know you won't." Blaine gave a small hiccup. "I mean I'm not sad Kurt, I'm happy. I'm just so happy and… and…"

"Shush darling, it's okay. That doesn't make you a bad person, it just makes you human." He quickly pressed his lips to Blaine's, tasting the saltiness on them, before standing and pulling Blaine up with him. "Come on, let's go back to the room, watch all those films you wanted to, and see how far we can push room service before they crack!"

Blaine gave another snort of laughter as Kurt started to drag him to the exit and nearby metro. "We look ridiculous, you look ridiculous." He gestured to Kurt's bare feet and rather shocking fashion ensemble, considering he'd thrown it on in only minutes.

"I'm setting a new trend is all." Kurt gave a quick smile back at Blaine before starting to run while still holding Blaine's hand, reminiscent of a time years ago when Blaine had done the same to Kurt down an empty school corridor.

And this time Blaine's laugh was full bodied as he ran beside Kurt past shocked tourists and visitors, not caring what anyone thought, just caring that he was holding Kurt's hand and that everything might not be ideal or perfect but, you know what, neither was love. And that was just fine.

The End.

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><p>AN: So that's a wrap, hope you enjoyed it! It would be lovely if you could review and tell me what you think. There was going to be a sequel looking at Blaine's point of view and where exactly he went on their anniversary but I don't think there's been enough feedback to think people might read it. Though I may do it anyway lol but not for a long time now.

Ta ta for now :-)

p.s. The last scene, with the converses being used as a vase at Oscar Wilde's grave, is true. I don't know if they're still there but they were the last two times I went.


End file.
